A Beautiful Lie
by tocilar
Summary: A lie never turns out well in the end and for Genevieve, it was her way to survive in the beginning but it could end up her death sentence if she is found out. Scabior/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A Beautiful Lie**

**Summary:** A lie never turns out well in the end and for Genevieve, it was her way to survive in the beginning but it could end up her death sentence if she is found out. Scabior/OC

**Rating:** M-R for violence, language, adult situations and later chapters.

**Genre:** Drama/Action/Suspense/Romance.

**Pairing:** Scabior/OC

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. I make no profit out of this work of fanfiction. I merely own Genevieve and the story arc.

**Author's Note:** Okay, so this idea is probably my favourite of the three I'm currently working on for the Harry Potter verse in the Scabior section. It was inspired by a Tamora Pierce quartet (virtual cookies to whoever guesses the right quartet). It wasn't an intentional inspiration to be honest, I sort of was doing a writing exercise (yes, I write _a lot_) and well I liked where it went. I'm not British; I'm Australian so I do apologize in advance for any vernacular that I may get wrong, I have tried to write the dialogue of Scabior as best as I could.

Anyway on a last note, I am looking for a beta reader to help me out with improving this.

Feedback is greatly welcome.

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Recruitment Part I<strong>

Genevieve gasped in air by the bucket load, trying to regain her breath as she stumbled down the empty side alley. Her face probably looked like she'd just gone five rounds with the muggle boxer Muhammad Ali and lost. She gave a weak laugh at the thought and groaned as her nose screamed in protest from where it had been broken.

Her lip stung terribly as it bled and her right shoulder felt as though it was on fire.

Footsteps and a gruff voice came from behind her and Genevieve felt her heart stop in her chest. He'd followed her. She was grabbed roughly by the collar of her jumper suddenly and in the next moment crashed into the stone wall of the small alley way.

Grunting and biting her lip to stop herself from crying out at the force behind the throw, she fell to the cold ground. Her attacker snarled at her; "Filthy half-blood!"

The words stung but before she could attack him with a few words of her own, his hand snaked out and seized her by the throat, lifting her up and pressing her back into the wall that she'd been thrown against mere seconds ago. She struggled against the large hand; her lungs fighting for air.

Barely able to see through the tears that pricked at her eyes, Genevieve kicked out, getting him somewhere on the leg but not enough to make him let her go. "I'll teach ya some manners and respect!" he roared at her.

She thought back to how this scene had occurred and how his exact words now had hung in the locked, spelled room only half an hour ago. He'd told her she hadn't cleaned his room properly and he wanted to show her where she'd done wrong – her first mistake had been to walk into the room. Before she had been able to draw her wand and defend herself, he had lunged at her and knocked her to the ground. What followed was a severe beating and attempted rape until she had managed to grab her wand from close by and get him away from her. After getting out of the room, she'd entered the main room of the Macavoy Inn and quite a number of stares due to her appearance.

She'd managed to muster all manner of composure and strength as what she could and leave the place by a side door.

He had followed her much to Genevieve's unfortunate luck. Her lungs screamed in protest to the loss of so much oxygen and she felt her feet leave the ground in which she had been standing on as he raised her up the wall.

She felt her eyes begin to roll back and her hands begin to slow in their attempts to get his hand from round her throat as his grip tightened a fraction more.

Then –

It was gone. The vice like grip around her throat disappeared and she fell to the ground in a heap; choking and coughing as she tried to take in as much air as swiftly as she possibly could.

Glancing round from where she lay huddled against the wall; Genevieve found her attacker face down on the ground with a large black boot digging into his back. She heard growling and grunting from above her. There was another voice but she was unable to distinguish the words spoken as she found her hearing too be muffled as though they were filled with water – her left one more so than her right.

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><p>"Ain't no business o' yers, snatchers," he spat out gruffly, struggling against the boot on his back.<p>

"Ye be causing quite the scene back in ye own inn Macavoy, for a great many spectators and it might be raising some questions." The deep voice came over the growling above him and Macavoy shuddered.

He had been hoping that they would stick to their own business and not come intervene; he could've gotten rid of the runt then and no one would've been any the wiser. Macavoy growled and struggled harder. "My establishment, my rules apply and this here runt weren't obeying 'em," he said in his defence.

"And it gives yer reason to beat the lad while ya have customers?" It was almost said in a taunting manner that enraged the innkeeper but he held his tongue knowing the snatchers weren't the type to mess with in the least.

Death-Eaters were terrifying but when it came to certain snatchers one could never be quite sure if they were the dim-witted kind or the intelligent and menacing ones. He'd watched the group of them earlier when they'd first arrived and knew these were in the intelligent and menacing group.

He was treading on dangerous ground but he couldn't understand why they were so interested in business of this kind.

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><p>Genevieve heard term lad through the thick fog of liquid in her ears and realized almost immediately that whoever was aiding her had been in the inn when she'd left and had not only followed them out into the alley but believed her to a boy. Did she really look that bad that it had made her look like a boy?<p>

Bringing her hand up Genevieve winced as she pressed her fingers against her broken nose, causing a sharp sensation of agony.

The situation would have almost been laughable – if it was not her life on the line.

A boy of nineteen would've been able to stand up to the surly old man but a girl who was barely five foot five and slight in frame didn't have a fig of a chance after the first blow to the back of her head, which had nearly rendered her unconscious. She was only lucky enough that her wand had come to her weak call.

Glancing at her now former employer, she saw the boot move off his back and his sudden lunge for her but his hands never touched her. He was dragged roughly backwards on his knees and tugged to his feet.

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><p>"Yer got no more business 'ere, innkeeper, get back to yer establishment," said the deep, rough voice of the first snatcher. His companion unceremoniously threw the old man away in the direction of his inn and growled out threateningly.<p>

The first snatcher, Scabior watched him shuffle off, grumbling to himself. He thought the man should have been grateful that he hadn't decided to do something worse but that wasn't the most important thing on his mind in that moment.

Glancing down at the small lad who they had just aided, he tilted his head slightly to the side – regarding how the beaten boy was curled up against the wall and seemingly trying to appear as though he was not there. He almost chuckled.

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><p>Genevieve realized that she had very likely gone from the frying pan and into the oven as she tried to curl into herself and hide, hoping that her saviors – as grateful as she was to them – would just leave.<p>

Snatchers; she'd heard the term through the fog of the drumming in her ear. It confused her as to why snatchers would help her. They were not the helping sort.

One of them stepped closer to her and Genevieve, albeit tired realized she'd need to think of a lie and think of one quick. They were deserving of her thanks but terror seized at her as she glanced up at the two through puffy and swollen eyes. She didn't know whether it was her injuries or not but one of them had the face of a beast more than a man and he was leaning down close to her.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. "Lad, give us a look at the damage, see if we can fix ya up some." The muffled voice was deep and rough. And part of her almost cried in relief. He still thought she was a boy even this close.

"Nothin' but a runt, shoulda left 'im to 'et wot he deserved, Scabior," grunted the hideous man mere inches from her face. The thick, gravelly voice made a shudder pass through her.

Wait! That name. She dared taking her eyes from the one directly before her to glance round at the first snatcher and came face to face with the _New Ministries_ own head Snatcher.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she shuffled back into the wall. "Bit o' a wimp if ya ask me."

"And was I?" the man, Scabior, snapped back. After a moment of watching him, she noticed his brow furrow and she knew the look on her face would be nothing but sheer horror. He straightened up.

Genevieve was huddled up against a wall before the most infamous snatcher to walk out of Azkaban upon the resurrection of the Dark Lord and she was frozen stiff. Her wand was in her back pocket but something told her it would be pure suicide to try and take on Scabior and whatever his companion was. Not to mention her current list of health would hinder her capabilities immensely that she had no doubt even trying to apparate would cause her more harm and it wasn't like she had anywhere safe to apparate to.

"We lost Asgeir in the last snatch, damn git he was, and I think we just 'appened upon his replacement – once we 'et 'im cleaned up a bit 'o course."

She glanced up at the man and found him still staring down at her. His companion's scornful gaze left her petrified that he would grab her any second and rip her throat out. She coughed viciously and groaned as her bruised ribs cried in agony, trying to cover it as she struggled to push herself from off the ground.

Genevieve stumbled slightly, leaning against the wall for support, clutching her ribs as they protested her movement.

"Easy lad," Scabior remarked, moving to grab her arm only Genevieve moved away from him as quickly as her injuries would permit her to.

His companion closed the distance between them and took hold of her roughly, grabbing her sore jaw in one of his mammoth-sized hands and tugging her face to his. She shook a little and her eyes darted over his face; deep set black eyes below a caveman like brow and as she studied his face with her poor sight she thought she could see fangs in his wicked smile.

Looking to the ground, she startled as he sniffed her short, mop of hair. Genevieve thanked her lucky stars in that moment that she did not wear perfume and that the short haphazardly cut mess of black locks probably aided her in appearing mostly like a boy.

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><p>Scabior watched in interest as Fernir moved towards the lad and grabbed him roughly, dragging him in close and sniffing him. Truth be told; when the boy had appeared from the back rooms of the inn sporting a badly beaten face and possibly a broken bone here or there by the way he'd been clutching at his shoulder and ribs, Scabior had wondered who had done it to him. It wasn't normal to see such a sight unless it was his own doing or the doing of one of his men.<p>

Now as he found the boy cowering before the hulking werewolf, Scabior queried himself on why he had decided to help the lad and not just leave him. There was something of curious interest about him just by looking at the beaten and freckled face. Even in his keen sense, he could not pick up on what it was but he knew that he wanted to find it out.

When he'd been leaning in close to him previously, he thought the kid smelt a little _odd_ for a boy but brushed it aside, he had seen how a few of the female workers in the inn had stuck close to him and put the strange scent down to the idea that he spent more time with the women than what they'd probably like Macavoy to know of.

He would need to get him cleaned up a bit before he got a better look at him as his face was smeared with blood and swollen badly and nearly beyond recognition.

"Wot's yer name and status?" he asked, breaking the silence hanging in the air between the three of them.

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><p><em>Think Genevieve. Think.<em> Her voice was caught in her throat as she tried to come up with a name. Deciding to risk it all, she gave them the only name that came to her mind. "Qu- Quinn Str- Strougler. Half-blood."

She'd given them her twin brother's name. Cursing her speech problem, she tried to keep herself from passing out, knowing it would hinder her plan to try and keep up appearance as a boy.

"He ain't on the list."

The hand holding her jaw tightened for a second before it slowly let go and the large man-beast took a step back.

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><p>"Looks like its yer lucky day lad," Scabior remarked, chuckling a little but inwardly pleased that the half-blood hadn't been on the list. He had been dead serious when he'd made the comment of using the lad to replace Asgeir.<p>

"Don't look so lucky ta me," Fernir grumbled back.

Scabior gave him a rueful look and clucked his tongue as he stroked his chin in thought. "Go fetch the boys. Get 'em back to camp," he told the werewolf who reluctantly moved to do as he was told.

Once the werewolf had disappeared he tucked the small leather book into the inside of his jacket and glanced down at the lad, wondering how he would do at apparating with his condition. Deciding not to worry about it, he reached out and gripped the shoulder of the boy's jacket tightly and apparated.

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><p>Genevieve fell roughly to the ground as they landed and heard chuckling from above her. She groaned in response but did not say anything as he grabbed her arm and tugged her up, ignoring any injuries she may have had and pulling her along towards where a fire was burning up ahead between the trees.<p>

"Take it yer already know who I am," he commented.

She glanced at him and lifted a shoulder, nodding. "Ha– Hard–" Genevieve stopped trying to get out what she wanted to say and saw his eyebrow quirk in clear questioning but he didn't say anything as they finally came upon the camp.

They were met with roughly ten stares and Genevieve had to remember to not huddle in close to her rescuer, knowing that it may quite easily give her away and so far she seemed to be safe in them believing her to be of all people her twin brother Quinn.

"Alright ya gawkers, back to yer business ain't like yer never seen a beaten up boy 'fore," Scabior shouted out to the camp as he lead her towards a tent resting between two others.

_The wonderful brilliance of magic_ she thought as Scabior tugged one of the flaps back and pushed her inside to reveal a larger room than what should have been impossible within the confines of the small tent under normal circumstances.

Glancing round, despite her weakened vision she gathered it was his tent solely as there was only one bed within the vicinity.

His hand let go of the shoulder of her jacket and he moved towards the far corner of the tent where a desk had a number of things scattered across it.

Genevieve stood there awkwardly as he went through the drawers, not wanting to move for fear that in any moment he might turn and attack her. Someone came in behind her and she felt a shudder pass through her as the other snatcher from the alley stepped round her and gave her a scornful look.

In an instant, she almost felt like turning tail and running but forced herself to remain still and silent.

"Wot Fernir?" Scabior asked suddenly.

"Boys like to be knowin' if ya want 'em to get back to snatchin' or to stay in camp," the man, Fernir, inquired his eyes on the lead snatcher who was still rifling through drawers and clusters of other things.

"The lot o' us be stayin' in camp for the night," Scabior answered. "We'll head out 'gain at first light."

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><p>Finding what he was searching for, Scabior turned to look at the boy. He cocked his head to the side as he watched the kid for a moment. Quinn was short, very short actually for a boy and small, or at least he looked small – it was hard to judge by the baggy clothing the kid was dressed in. Faded jeans, worn shoes that looked muggle orientated and a size too large shirt dwarfed him which was covered by a thick jacket.<p>

It was hardly clothes for a snatcher. When he got the kid to the ministry in the morning, to make sure Yaxley knew he had taken the boy on, he'd find him some better clothes.

He noticed that his short black hair hung at uneven angles round his face also. It looked worse than Fernir's matted mess. The kid had his head lowered and Scabior chuckled a little, he was afraid of him. Good. Fear was something that Scabior found rewarding. If his men feared him; they did their job without question. If those he snatched feared him; they were more willing to talk without the need to torture them extravagantly.

Finally coming out of his inspection of the boy, Scabior closed the distance between them and told him to hand over his wand.

The kid's head snapped up and two large hauntingly pale green eyes stared back at him warily. "Yer want to be doin' as I say kiddo, or else I won't be helpin' yer to get better," he stated simply and held his free hand out, palm up. "Yer ain't in any danger and until yer've passed Yaxley's interview t'morra yer not gettin' it back. Simple 'eally – unless yer got somethin' to hide."

As he waited for Quinn to decide on the matter, though there was little room for disagreement on the outcome, Scabior took in the damage to the kid's face; a cut above his left eye, broken nose by the look of how it was sitting, split lip, a black eye that was swollen to the point that it was barely open, on his right cheek a bruise was forming as though the bone below his eye had been broken and he also noticed the dry blood that was matting the skin from the kids' right ear and down his neck. He'd been roughed up right good. It made Scabior question what rules he'd been breaking to get this type of a beating and almost killed for.

The wand was handed over and Scabior looked down at it as the smaller hand let go of it slowly, clearly not wishing to give up his best and only weapon of defence. "Ten inch; Mahogany and the core –" he trailed off, glancing at Quinn in questioning.

"Ph – Phoe – nix Tail Fea – ther ," Quinn stuttered out after a moment and he nodded, tossing the wand onto the unmade bed in the far left corner of the room.

"Yer always stutterin' over yer words lad, were yer born with it?" A small nod answered his question and Scabior pursed his lips as he grabbed hold of the younger man's jacket shoulder again and pulled him towards the only chair in the room and made him sit down. "How can yer even cast a spell stutterin' like that?"

"I – I usual – usually – ha – have more – luck – w – with –"

Scabior told him to shut up when his lip began bleeding during his attempts to form a proper sentence and crouched down as he set the two bottles of stuff on the desk beside Quinn's arm. "Yer gonna be in a lot of pain over the 'ext few days or so even 'fter I fix yer."

"Why – why are – are – yer hel – helpin' me?" Quinn inquired his eyes on his lap as he brought his left hand up to clutch at his right arm and Scabior caught the pained look from the kid's good eye.

"I need a new hand in me group an' yer in need of a new start an' that's 'bout all there is to it," Scabior replied in a firm voice, leaving no room for any more talk as he grabbed the kid's jaw in one hand and inspected his face a little more closely, deciding where to start fixing first.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. I make no profit out of this work of fanfiction. I merely own Genevieve and the story arc.

**Hey all, well thanks to the lovely who alerted this and the two anonymous lovelies who reviewed :) Hope you all enjoy. Feedback is greatly welcomed and appreciated.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Recruitment Part II<strong>

Genevieve sat on the log as she watched the fire burn brightly in its circle. It was spelled to burn longer than it naturally should which made her quite curious as to the abilities of the snatchers in regards to magic. They were not generally regarded as being very bright by a few who had managed to elude them previously and told the tales as though they were Great War stories. Maybe they had crossed a different unit of snatchers.

Scabior was known to the wizarding world quite well and by what she could remember from when she'd been reading up on the realm's most dangerous and caught of witches and wizards he had been near the top of the list meaning he wasn't exactly the type of wizard you'd want to run into in some small alley, in the middle of the night and have _take_ you in.

Glancing over her shoulder to where his tent was, Genevieve went to reach for her wand only to remember how he had confiscated it from her. Inwardly she hoped that tomorrow would go in her favour of good fortune and she wouldn't be caught out by them.

Yaxley. The name sent a shiver down her spine. Ares Yaxley, head for Magical Law Enforcement and in charge of the snatchers. Even if Scabior wanted _Quinn_ in his pack, Yaxley was the final voice on the decision and that was what scared her. She was never going to pull this off and it made her groan in annoyance as she buried her head into her hands, fisting handfuls of her hair as she tried to think of a way to escape.

Her shoulder still ached, but the pain had subsided greatly since Scabior had set it back in place and her nose hurt whenever she breathed through it; even when using magic to heal injuries it still was not instantaneous.

A growl in her ear startled her and she bit her lip to stop herself from screaming as she spun round on the log to come face to face with Fernir. "Yer startle quite easily _boy_," he remarked as he moved to sit on the log beside her and Genevieve almost trembled as she gave him a sideways glance and found that even sitting beside him she was dwarfed greatly in comparison.

She turned her attention back to the fire and sat in silence beside the ma– werewolf. Genevieve felt like a right fool that the werewolf's name had not popped into mind the second she'd seen him back in the alley even with her eye sight half gone at the time. His face had been littered throughout the streets on wanted posters weeks ago but since the Ministry had fallen – and the Minister had been replaced upon his untimely death by Pius – those posters had been taken down and replaced with the _undesirable_ posters of Harry Potter and those connected to him.

"Yer not much of a talker are yer?" he grunted out.

She shook her head a little. In truth, if it were with the right person, Genevieve could stutter her way through a conversation or at least attempt to. He was not that type of person. She had tried since she was little to get rid of the stutter but she had progressed very little in actuality.

"Uh – whe – where do – I – I sle – sleep?" She had tried to make her voice sound a little deeper so as it wouldn't seem strange that she had such a soft voice for a boy. By the look on Fernir's face, she knew fooling him was going to be mighty hard.

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><p>She had her back to the corner and was huddled up beneath the blanket that Scabior had given her. The snores from the bed in the room made her raise an eyebrow. Men were such noisy sleepers. She rolled over and heard him jerk awake and could see the wall turn a soft blue hue as his wand lit up.<p>

Genevieve wanted so badly to sneak away and apparate to safety but she didn't even know where would be consider safe now and there was always the off chance that leaving would have her name, her brother's name, added to their list. She was only a half-blood and whilst not a top priority like Potter, Granger and the others might have been, she wasn't a supporter of the Dark Lord and had been an Auror in training under the old Ministry. Now, she was stuck with the _New Ministries_ rag tag bunch of bounty hunters.

She didn't think she'd be able to hunt down those like her and hand them over. Genevieve knew the difference between right and wrong, knew that sticking to the snatchers meant she'd end up being regarded as a traitor to those who were fighting the Dark Lord's uprising. She wasn't one but if she stayed willingly then what else could she be seen as. And then there was the added point that she was a girl and not a boy as they thought her to be. She knew one way or another Scabior would find out that she was a girl, he wasn't that stupid, she only hoped that he found out later rather than sooner.

_You are a survivor, and that is what you have to keep telling yourself otherwise they'll catch you out easily _she told herself.

"Yer thinking pretty loud there kid." Genevieve glanced round and found Scabior sitting on the edge of his bed, sans his jacket, shirt, belt and boots, those plaid pants still on. On any other person they probably would have looked ridiculous and seemed extremely out of place but on him they suited him well actually.

"Sor – Sorry," she stammered out and laid her head back down, wondering what he was on about. She surely hadn't been voicing her thoughts aloud. Her heart began to race.

"Wot's got yer up at this hour?" he inquired and it dawned on her that it had just been his way of saying that she was still awake when she should be asleep.

"A – A lot," she answered with a shrug, not glancing back round at him and not moving.

"Well stop yer ponderin' for the night an' get to bed, that healin' will only work properly if yer rest." She heard him move and a few minutes later heard his light snores that told her he was already back to sleep.

He wasn't a deep sleeper; she guessed by the way he shifted very little in his slumber, even if it sounded as though he were. She wanted to retrieve her wand from the bookcase beside the bed where he had placed it after he'd finished cleaning her up earlier however she knew the moment she moved again he was likely to wake up and catch her.

He hadn't harmed her thus far, maybe staying the night wouldn't be so bad, or at least spending what was left of it sleeping soundly in a semi-safe place.

Come morning she could always find a way to leave and at least with some sleep, she would have a bit more strength.

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><p>Scabior would've kicked Quinn awake had the boy not been sleeping so soundly when he woke up before dawn. He decided to let the kid rest while he could and wake him up once the rest of his men had left. They were already anxious to go out and start snatching as is and he knew they'd just cause trouble if he kept them in camp longer.<p>

Glancing down at Quinn as he slept, Scabior quirked an eyebrow at how oddly _pretty_ the boy was even with the freckles covering his cheeks and nose in a light spray. It almost didn't look right on the boy – as though his features were too feminine, even for a boy in clearly his late teens to early twenties.

Scabior shook his head at his train of thought, thinking himself to be going crazy and pulled the small book from his pocket to go over the list of names. There was a Strougler on the list – two in fact and both were women; Genevieve and Gwendolyn.

He wondered if the kid was a relation and knew where the pair might be hiding out. The two had marks to the names stating that they were on mid-priority. He looked at the previous occupations of the two; Genevieve had been an Auror in training and Gwendolyn was a teacher at a muggle school.

Not very dangerous in his opinion really but seeing that one was a Mudblood and they were most likely mother and daughter he could understand why the Ministry would want them for questioning. An Auror in training probably had contact with the uprising too against the Dark Lord before going into hiding which explained why they'd want her for questioning. The right potion, spell or torture would get the girl talking pretty quickly if he was the one doing the interrogating.

He shut the book and headed outside. Fernir met him halfway to the logs. "Gents I'm sendin' ya on the search on yer own," he stated to the nine men all looking at him expectantly.

"Wot 'bout yer an' the kid, boss?" Beasley inquired, running a hand over his braided head.

"We got business at the Ministry to 'tend too," he replied, not divulging them in any more detail than necessary. "Until then, Fernir is boss."

Beasley nodded in return, knowing not to query Scabior's decisions and after he'd handed the book of undesirables to Fernir, they all apparated leaving the camp empty and he glanced round at his tent deciding it was time for the kid to get up so they could get to the Ministry quickly and be out of there just as quick. He didn't fancy an encounter with Umbridge today.

She was the equally psychopathic however decked in pink version of Bellatrix Lestrange to him. He preferred not to deal with crazy women such as those two as much as possible. Umbridge could throw him back into Azkaban at the snap of her fingers and Bellatrix would probably kill him if she could.

He was quite happy alive and staying out of Azkaban for now. Nearly fifteen years in the place had not exactly been his ideal holiday.

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><p>Genevieve had been enjoying the sleep she was having – that was until she was shaken awake. "Get up, yer got five minutes an' we're leavin'."<p>

She jerked upright and reached for her wand but all of last night came rushing back so fast it made her head spin a little. She remembered that her wand was currently not on her person and Genevieve looked up to find Scabior standing over her.

She pushed the blanket aside and got up, albeit a little slowly due to being sore and stiff from her injuries and the healing process.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hands as she yawned, Genevieve caught Scabior looking at her curiously as though he was studying her and felt a little unnerved by the gaze and quickly cleared her throat.

"Uh – can I – have – my – my wand?" she inquired holding her hand out.

He clucked his tongue and chuckled. "Rule was; ministry first an' then yer can have it back – on the condition Yaxley clears yer o' course," he replied, wagging a finger at her as he grinned and without warning grabbed her jacket shoulder.

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><p>She stumbled slightly as they apparated into the Ministry and she caught sight of snatcher guards patrolling as she glanced round. It put her on edge. Scabior let go of her jacket and told her to follow him as he headed across the main lobby of the Ministry.<p>

Genevieve decided to stick in close to him and looked around at all the more professional witches and wizards they passed by without thought, some even moved quickly out of Scabior's path. She should've been here or at least in employment with the Ministry as an Auror by now if it weren't for the Dark Lord.

Of course, when he had been resurrected, she had abandoned her job, as had four other Aurors, knowing their blood statuses would have them locked in shackles the moment the Ministry fell to those loyal to him and as she looked at the Ministry Pillar, she didn't fail to notice the muggle figures near the bottom of it in _their rightful place_.

Scabior lead her through a large open doorway on the left side of the main lobby and towards the lifts.

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><p>He stood patiently before the lift, waiting for it to open and glanced round. He could see the terrified looks of those around him and almost chuckled at how easily his reputation had grown in only a few short weeks since the Ministries fall and his freedom from Azkaban.<p>

The lift opened and Scabior went to step inside only to have none other than Dolores Umbridge step out before him.

_For Merlin's sake!_

He resisted the temptation to roll his eyes and smiled at the woman all clad in pink. "Ah, Scabior, what lovely timing you have, I was just asking Yaxley when you might be reporting in," she said in an overly chipper voice, that belied the dark and true cunning nature of the woman.

He nodded his head. "Yer I have some business with Yaxley, ma'am," he remarked, picking up the woman's hand and kissing the back of it as he stepped round her and entered the lift.

Quinn quickly followed him and he saw Umbridge raise one delicate eyebrow in questioning. "Well when you are finished with Yaxley, I would like to see you in my office," she said as the lift door shut.

Scabior inclined his head, smile still plastered on his face as he reached up to grab hold of the strap above his head. "Of course," he told her in as smooth of a tone as he could muster.

The lift jerked suddenly and Quinn fell forward before reaching up to grab the strap over his head and Scabior, now out of sight of the painful woman, groaned while rubbing his jaw. "I swear if I have to smile that long ever again in her presence, I will get lock jaw," he complained quietly before glancing at the kid beside him and noticing the confused look on his face. "How old are yer kid?"

"Nine- Nineteen."

He nodded in the direction of the lift door as he spoke: "Then yer still would've been in school when she was appointed the Headmistress right?" Quinn nodded. "Well then I don't 'eally have to 'xplain her to yer."

Quinn shook his head in reply and Scabior chuckled. "'Tween yer an' me personally I could never understand her with the cats and all that – that pink," he stated, chuckling as Quinn pulled a face at the remark before reaching for the glove covering his still slightly discoloured left hand and pulling it up over his fingers to reveal a faded scarring across the back of his hand.

Scabior took hold of the kid's hand and pulled it closer to his face. The kid's hand was tiny in comparison to his, so tiny that Scabior wondered if the kid had not yet had his growth spurt. He shrugged the thoughts aside and focused on the faded scar of words. "I shall never tell lies," he read out and then glanced at the Quinn's face in questioning.

"She – She did – it – it to a – a number of – of us," he explained. "Ev – even if – we – we were – tell – telling – the truth."

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head, clucking his tongue as he dropped Quinn's hand."Tormentin' yer lot with cursed quills, now that is quite laughable, probably was the only way to keep yer in line, I' m guessin', " he drawled as the lift stopped suddenly. "Well – I could understand her doin' it to the likes of those Weasley twins, morons for pure-bloods they be. Just like their nit of a father."

Quinn smirked a little at him and shrugged. "Pre – Pretty fun – jokes – in – in my – opinion. Made – quite a – a few – Slytherins get – what – what was – coming to 'em."

He stepped out of the lift and glanced round at the teenager with a rueful look. "Yer an' I would not have gotten on in school then," Scabior began as he headed for the door at the end of the corridor. "I was Slytherin an' judgin' by that last remark, yer had to be Gryffindor."

Quinn nodded. "Sortin' – Hat it – told me I – I had a brave – streak."

Scabior noticed how when Quinn slowed himself down while trying to talk, the kid could almost get out full sentences quite well.

Stopping in front of the door with Ares Yaxley craved above the title _Head of Magical Law Enforcement_; Scabior knocked and straightened his jacket a little before glancing round at Quinn and pulling the kid's wand out of his jacket pocket. The door opened and Ares Yaxley appeared before them both.

"Scabior, what is it?" the blonde inquired briskly, his eye shifting from the snatcher to the teenager standing just beside him.

"I found this here kid last night an' was thinkin' of recruitin' him to fill Asgeir's place, with yer permission o' course," Scabior remarked, handing Quinn's wand over and pulling the boy forward for Yaxley's inspection. "Quinn Strougler; nineteen; no family I know of yet an' unemployed as of last night." Scabior lied a little of course, not that it would hurt anyone as he still hadn't confirmed that Quinn was related to the two Strougler's in the book of undesirables.

Scabior looked expectantly at Yaxley, hoping that he would permit him to recruit the kid into his unit. Something intrigued him about the kid and he wanted to keep a close eye on him until he was able to work it out.

* * *

><p>Genevieve wondered if Ares Yaxley could see her ploy; see that she wasn't her twin brother but really a girl and a former Auror in training for the Ministry which he had helped to tear down.<p>

The blonde man was almost scowling at her and Genevieve felt like crawling back into herself. It seemed like an eternity passed by before Yaxley finally looked over her head and to the man standing behind her. "Where was it you said you found this boy, Scabior?"

"I didn't – sir," he answered.

Genevieve caught the raise of Yaxley's eyebrow and hoped he didn't press the issue. Her luck seemed to be in spades. "And you are fine with training the boy on the job and taking responsibility for him?"

"O' course, I wouldn't have brought 'im to yer if I weren't willin' to recruit 'im," Scabior drawled from close behind her and for some reason the sound of his voice, in that moment, gave her an odd sense of comfort despite the situation. She felt like a twit at the thought of enjoying the sound of Scabior's voice considering what he was pulling her into but it was oddly true.

His voice was the kind that sounded rough but held a soothing quality to it at the same time. She had no doubt that women would swoon to his voice easily if he said the right things to them; seduce them with promises.

Coming out of her reverie sharply at the track her thoughts were going down, Genevieve found Yaxley handing her wand back to Scabior.

"Very well," Yaxley remarked. "Make sure he wears the band so he is recognized." A red band suddenly appeared from behind Yaxley and Scabior took it and tucked it into his pocket.

Genevieve felt like letting out a large sigh of relief but didn't think doing so would be very good in front of the elder wizard. It was truly that simple to be recruited? All if had felt like was a tense stare down which she had, in some way, won.

Either way it calmed her a little until the door slammed shut in her face and Scabior chuckled, throwing an arm around her shoulders and leading her back to the elevators. "Well let's get yer a jacket an' how 'bout some better clothes."

Genevieve felt her stomach drop at his words. New clothes? Boy clothes? She felt her fear spike suddenly and looked up at him as they stepped back into the elevators. "Ba – Baggy plea – please," she said to him and saw him glance down at her clothing.

"Well 'lright," he answered with a slight shrug. "We'll compromise as we go, how 'bout that kiddo? 'Cause yer gonna need clothes that'll be right for snatchin' in but first – we got somewhere else to go in here."

_Ah yes_ she remembered while nodding, accepting the idea of compromising with him over the clothes – despite that she already knew she would win more than one of the compromises no matter how long it took her. _Umbridge's office was still on their to-do list. _

* * *

><p>Scabior stood outside the office, waiting for the door to open as Quinn stood behind him looking round at the witches and wizards sitting at their desks binding together a book to do with Mudbloods and the dangers that they could pose.<p>

He knew the kid was nervous, he could practically feel it radiating from him but why was beyond him, he had passed Yaxley's _interview_ of sorts. His only hope was that Umbridge only wanted to bark an order at him and then send him on his way. He had better and much more_ fulfilling_ and _entertaining_ things to do. That made him smirk a little.

The door opened and Scabior found Umbridge sitting at her desk, hands folded in front of her and eyes on the doorway as he stepped inside followed by his new recruit. She gestured to the seat directly opposite her, the only other seat aside from hers in the room and Scabior eased himself down into it. His eyes moved to the numerous bewitched cat plates lining the walls as he waited for Umbridge to spit out whatever it was she had asked to see him about, slightly unnerved by all the purring and meowing come from the wall. Damn animals.

"So, you have attained your new little snatcher," she began and Scabior looked from her to where Quinn was standing behind him, the kid's eyes focused on the numerous cat plates and what they were all doing.

"Yaxley has no mind of me usin' the kid," Scabior remarked with a slight shrug as he glanced back round to the woman in pink sitting opposite him.

"Good, because we have an updated book for you," she told him as she opened a draw of her desk and pulled out a book that was identical to the one he had given to Fernir just this morning. It was a lot thicker than the other one.

He flicked through a few pages as he put his feet up on the desk, his eyes stopping on two of the names on the third page; Genevieve and Gwendolyn Strougler.

"Remove your feet from my desk snatcher!" Umbridge snapped just as Scabior smoothly stood and turned towards the door as though he had not even heard her words. Manners were not something that Scabior had and he did not intend to learn any for the sake of the overly chipper woman.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. I make no profit out of this work of fanfiction. I merely own Genevieve and the story arc.

**Hey all, thanks to Mimi Malevolent who reviewed :) **I am trying to draw this one out and make Scabior a well rounded character cause well as bad as I love him, he does need a bit of an okay side too, otherwise he'd be a monster, hope it comes across that way. ****

**Hope you all enjoy. **

**Feedback is greatly welcomed and appreciated.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Grim Reality<strong>

Genevieve felt her stomach lurch as they landed roughly in a muggle clothing store. That was the third time she had apparated in a day and it was two times too many for her. She wasn't use to travelling by way of apparition often, preferring the convention of actually walking. With great poise and strength, she managed to keep her food down and straightened up as her stomach settled.

Turning she stumbled into a rack of clothes, nearly falling and knocking the entire thing over. Scabior chuckled somewhere behind her. Finding her footing, she spun round to scowl at the snatcher only to find he'd moved and was heading over to the men's section of the store.

She reluctantly followed him, dragging her feet along the way as her eyes fell on a black and green dress that looked beyond gorgeous – even whilst it was on a rack. Genevieve almost stopped to admire it but fought the urge, knowing that if Scabior turned and caught her, she'd have a hard time trying to cover her ass on what she was doing admiring girl's clothing.

"Yer know as painful as it be to admit it but muggles 'eally have some great fashion," Scabior commented off-handily as he stopped to inspect a rack of clothes. "Well, sometimes." He was holding up a pair of what she made out to be bike shorts for men.

Genevieve glanced at him with one raised eyebrow and a look of complete and utter bewilderment. Considering who she was currently in the presence of she had no doubt that he was two pence or so shy of a full pound in more ways than one. It was probably what made him so good at what he did.

But honestly – he was commenting on the fashion of muggles when they had more pressing matters? Like getting clothes for her and out of the place before people turned up. To Genevieve muggle fashion was pretty drab and boring. In a muggles sense, she had no doubt that Scabior would probably be considered clueless in terms of dressing oneself.

He wore plaid pants! They'd gone out of normal fashion when the eighties did in the muggle world. Now, they were typically wore by the punks one would see on the streets these days with their over the top Mohawks and piercings.

Scabior was hardly a poster boy for fashion in even their realm in her opinion. Though there was no denying that he wore what he did extremely well, she shook her head at the crazy notions of finding him to be quite the picture of a lost boy who grew up, an attractive one at that. It was difficult to keep reminding herself that she was meant to be a boy and that a boy would not think that, unless he batted for the same team that was – but Quinn didn't.

Why could her damn hormones and urges, which had seemingly been so easy to control over the years, now pressing her to the brink of self-destruction and all because of one attractive, but highly dangerous, snatcher?

"Wh – Which jac – jacket?" she inquired as she stopped at the back wall of the store and glanced over the three rows worth of them.

Genevieve heard him come up behind her and glanced over her shoulder at him to find him inspecting the rows curiously. He reached up to the second row suddenly and tugged a black leather jacket, similar to his own, down off its hanger and held it out to her. She peeled her old jacket off and tossed it to the floor before taking the black one from him. Pulling it on she found it fit her nicely and it even had a hood. It was just right.

She grinned as he nodded his approval when she looked up at him. He told her to take it off and go find a better shirt and pants. Nodding she headed down the isle of men's clothing. "Don't take too long," he warned, "we ain't dressin' yer up for a ball kid."

There was only one thing she was grateful for in that moment as she looked over the shirts; a small bust. If she was to wear tight pants and keep them a little lower, so they didn't highlight what she didn't have than maybe it could work out after all.

* * *

><p>Scabior looked at the change room door that Quinn had disappeared behind moments ago a little curious as to why the kid was worrying about privacy so badly. At least they'd finally managed to compromise on some clothes – after ten minutes – which he could wear comfortably and still be able to snatch in. He tied the red band around the left sleeve of the kid's new jacket as he was waiting for him to get changed.<p>

He knew when they got back to camp he'd need to test out the kids skills to make sure that he was able to keep up with him and Fernir when it came to the actual snatching. He normally wasn't so concerned with the men he had placed into his unit because they were generally chosen by Yaxley and were the more _elite_ of the snatchers – even if they didn't look as such.

However, when it concerned the kid to Scabior things were, in a way, different. So far the kid had impressed him greatly; he'd kept great composure in front of Yaxley, hadn't stepped a foot out of line in the least and aside from the oddity of the boy himself, Scabior enjoyed the youth at his side. Fernir had made the comment that it was as though Scabior had taken him on as an apprentice and student more than as a member of the unit.

Scabior liked that definition; teacher and student.

The oddity of the boy drew Scabior in too which both confused and intrigued the snatcher. Not only did he walk funny at times but he also had such a soft voice that it was almost woman like in a way. Scabior didn't argue with the notion that the kid might have swung towards his own gender, explaining why he acted the way he did but he wasn't prejudice against the sexual orientation of a person in the way he was with blood status.

His mind recalled a night in the Three Broomsticks – roughly three weeks back – when he'd encountered two witches, both muggleborn. They had been same sex orientated but that hadn't stopped the pair from earning their freedom in the only way he'd let a witch. Not to say he was agreeable to that every time a witch did offer herself over but when he felt the desire to. A smirk came to his face as he made a silent promise to himself that when they were in a town next; he was most definitely going to use it to his advantage.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Scabior realized some time had passed and the kid still had yet to surface. He rolled his eyes and stepped forward, knocking on the door. "Hey kiddo, we gotta move 'fore this place gets crowded," he said and took a few steps back when the door lock clicked to the vacant sign.

* * *

><p>Genevieve had never felt more nervous than she did now, stepping out of the change room. Her old clothes were long gone and now, standing before Scabior, she felt like a new person as she glanced at his face, wondering whether he approved of the gear, despite the arguments they'd initially had over all of the stuff. The old clothes had not been her own but after wearing them for so many weeks, she'd felt like they were. She'd taken them in the midst of altering herself to not appear like a well-dressed and presentable Auror.<p>

She wore a brand new pair of combat boots, her only other option besides a pair similar to Scabior's own, a pair of what she believed to be black Asylum bondage skinny legged pants with chains and straps down both legs which she had managed to adjust so the fact that she was a girl was not blatantly obvious and held them in place with black belt lined with metal studs. Her upper layer however was a little more laidback; men really didn't have much to go for that would look truly good on her and keep her covered so she'd settled with the black button down.

As Genevieve waited for Scabior to voice his judgement she tugged on the pair of black fingerless leather gloves that she'd found while rummaging round through the storeroom. It wasn't like she was paying for the overpriced goods.

"Here." Scabior handed over her new jacket, complete with a red band tied round the left sleeve near the elbow and she quickly pulled it on. "Well yer look as close to a true snatcher as yer ever gonna get kid."

* * *

><p>Genevieve was prepared this time for the apparition when he grabbed hold of her arm. "Hopefully by this afternoon you'll be able to apparate on your own," he remarked as they landed and he started to head towards the camp grounds.<p>

She watched him for a moment as she tried to gain her footing when she stumbled over some roots which she had ended up touching down on.

_He doesn't exactly land in the most well placed spots_ she thought begrudgingly.

He had a very unique way of strutting whilst walking Genevieve noted and found herself almost laughing at her notion of him having quite the attractive rear end in those shocking pants.

Blanching at her misguided thoughts, again, she felt like a twat. _Boy Genevieve! You're a boy, not a girl! Look at him as though he were a professor back in school._

Even though she didn't like the idea, as he was quite different to the professors, she had to admit it did help reign in her thoughts – for now.

Quickly rushing to catch up with him once off the roots of the large tree, Genevieve found that most of the snatchers had returned, though Fernir was not within sight. This was her first true inspection of the camp grounds and she found that in the daylight it wasn't quite as large as she'd first thought it'd been last night. It was backed up onto some old ruins and by what Scabior had told her on the elevator ride to Umbridge's office, they were the ruins in the forest of Dean. The tents had shifted, or at least the two smaller ones had and were now on the opposite side of the camp to the ruins and the larger one. The place reminded her of the time when she, Quinn and their parents had gone camping one year. A long time ago, before her father had passed away; there were some things even magic couldn't fix.

"Kid cleaned up real good boss," one commented as he grinned at Genevieve. He had red hair braided tightly to his scalp. "Guess this means Yaxley said he could stay."

Scabior nodded as the same snatcher handed him a small book identical to the one that Umbridge had given to him at the Ministry. She glanced closely at it as he pulled the other one out of his jacket and asked how things had gone before unceremoniously tossing the older one towards the burning fire in the pit between the seating logs.

"Greyback took the pair we snatched to the Ministry, he 'old us to come back 'ere an' wait fer ya."

Genevieve then noticed the wand in Scabior's jacket pocket – her wand! She suddenly itched to ask for it back as she realized without it she was a lamb amongst lions and those lions not only had size, strength and numbers against her but magic too. She had gone to the Ministry with him as was the deal, now she felt like she deserved it back.

"So wot's the kid's name?" Genevieve glanced at the snatcher with a beanie on his head and gave him a funny look. The beanie looked so out of place on the man it was somewhat amusing to notice half of them, as she took them in better today, looked more like a runaways than actual Ministry bounty hunters.

_Scabior and his lost boys _she thought and managed to keep a straight face despite inwardly she was laughing like crazy.

Scabior grinned slightly as he approached her and Genevieve pulled a face as he suddenly ruffled her hair as he passed by her. She growled while reaching up to fix the now messy mop of dark locks. "Quinn." With that he disappeared into his tent, chuckling and Genevieve found herself alone amongst the rest of the group.

Without Scabior in sight, she felt extremely intimidated and nervous.

"So it's Quinn, huh?" She nodded at the one with the braided head as he came up to her; towering over her slight frame and as she took in his slightly more plump build she had to wonder how good of a snatcher he was when it came to chasing down those who would run. "The name's Beasley."

She almost snorted at the absurd name. What had the man's parents been thinking at the time? Then again, what had Scabior's parents been thinking also and hers for that matter? Her name was terrible to her as people always seemed to confuse Genevieve with Guinevere, despite that they were spelt different.

Genevieve could imagine how much Scabior must have been ridiculed for his name in school and she felt somewhat sorry that the guy had been graced with his name.

She took Beasley's hand in hers, shook it and nearly had it ripped back out of place with the force behind the shake from him. The one in the beanie approached her next. His name was Archie; it suited him quite well she thought. One by one she was introduced to the eight men who all shook her hand before moving off to do whatever it was they had been doing before she and Scabior had returned.

Genevieve headed for Scabior's tent, determined to get her wand back. Feeling it might be inappropriate to just barge in, considering it was his tent, she knocked.

"Wot?"

"I – I – wan –"

"Kid, get in here," Scabior interrupted her and Genevieve pushed the tent flap open before stepping inside.

Had she have known what he was doing on the other side, she never would have done so.

A thick lump formed in her throat as she watched the shirt rise. He wasn't facing her and Genevieve remained stock still as she watched the muscles in his back tense and tightened with each little movement he made while chucking the shirt onto the desk.

_Oh dear!_

Thinking of him as a professor was most certainly not going to work now – not when he stood mere feet away without a shirt on.

Strong she may have been but she wasn't experienced and at only nineteen, she didn't have her fantasies in reign nor did she have tight control over her hormones yet, despite her attempts to do so while around this man.

Her eyes darted to the floor as she tried to remember what it was she had come to see him about in the first place.

Of course, her wand!

"'Ere," he said, breaking her thoughts as he approached her and handed over her wand without another word. "Save yer stutterin', I know it's wot yer were lookin' for." She nodded silently as she located a good pocket to put it in where she'd be able to get it out easily.

She turned to leave. "Yer'll be stayin' in here with me at night kiddo or least for the time bein'. There ain't any room in the other tent an' I don't think yer sharin' with Fernir is a sound plan 'eally."

"Kay," she answered, not arguing as she knew she had no choice. Her mind was however telling her quite adamantly that she should be telling him that she'll sleep with the others, knowing that if anyone were to figure out she was a girl it would be Fernir or Scabior and being in the same tent at night with the snatcher was not exactly a brilliant idea.

"I'll be outside in a minute; I wanna to see how good yer are with yer wand an' how fast yer be."

Genevieve nodded and stepped outside only to run right into the torso of a larger body. She glanced up warily at the man and found it was Fernir. He was scowling down at her and growled out low in a clear threat. Swallowing the thick knot in her throat, she quickly sidestepped the werewolf and headed over to the seating logs.

* * *

><p>Scabior glanced at the teenager who stood on the other side of the camp, his wand drawn and blood dripping out of the corner of his mouth. He had to hand it to the kid; he could hold his own when he was prepared and he didn't give up easily.<p>

Beasley, Fernir, Archie and the others were all off to the side out of attack range as Scabior tested out the kids' abilities.

Standing with his coat off and a hand tucked into his belt as he watched the kid shake his jacket off and toss it aside, Scabior had an amused look on his face.

"The kid is gettin' serious lads," he remarked in a teasing manner as he watched Quinn scowl and heard the boys roar with laughter, joining in on the teasing.

He wasn't going to call him Quinn, Scabior gave a great many of the boys nicknames; for instance Beasley he would call Beas on a good day and Archibald had become Archie as the man's full name was horrendously bad for a snatcher in his opinion. In the way of Quinn though, considering his age and height Scabior preferred to call him kid or kiddo. The kid didn't seem to mind anyway and he always answered to it.

* * *

><p><em>Arrogant pain<em> she thought as she watched him stand there like he was king of the world.

She went to attack only to be sent flying back across the camp even further. He was too quick for her. No wonder he was the Ministries head snatcher. If it had been a real duel, she knew she'd have been dead long ago, but he was only casting the smallest of attacking spells towards her presently. Groaning as she pushed herself up onto her hands, Genevieve shook her head and huffed.

As she glanced over to Scabior, she found he was standing with his side to her as he spoke to the others. She smirked as a wicked idea crossed her mind.

_Never turn away from your opponent_ she thought back to when she'd duelled other students at Hogwarts and raised her wand. It had worked back then, hopefully it would work now.

Chains shot out of her wand and flew towards the unprepared snatcher, wrapping about his long legs and knocking him to the ground. The group of snatchers went silent for a few seconds before they began cheering her on as Scabior struggled to break the chains around his legs.

She climbed to her feet and waved her wand making the chains disappear. Scabior jumped to his feet, brushing himself off as he tried to locate his wand on the ground.

"Clever," he told her, giving her the briefest hint of a proud smirk as she came over to him. Genevieve couldn't help but smile a little as she looked over at the other snatchers who were still cheering while she wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. "Alright, so yer good with yer spells. Wot 'bout runnin'?"

She shrugged a little. "O – O – Okay, I gu – ess - guess," she replied.

He rubbed a hand along his jaw for a second as she put her wand away. "You guess?" he repeated, looking over to where the others were. "Fernir grab the kid an' kill him."

Her eyes widened as she saw the werewolf advance on her, a smirk on his face. Without hesitation Genevieve spun round and took off between the trees knowing that the werewolf would break her neck in a second if he caught her. She dodged the obstacles in her path, trying to keep ahead of the hulking creature. The footsteps behind her were gaining ground over her own and she cut to the right, then to the left and headed back in the direction she came, passing right by Fernir who almost tripped over as he realized that she had passed by him and tried turning to grab her.

She made it back to camp and glanced at Scabior to find him leaning against a tree, absently cleaning his nails with an old knife. "You–"

She yelped as a larger body rammed into hers and tackled her to the ground. Struggling as she was turned over, Genevieve managed to lay one punch to the werewolf's cheek before he grabbed her hand and then her throat, pinning her to the ground with a rough shove.

Genevieve choked against the hold and wheezed, trying to pry the hand off her throat with her free hand.

* * *

><p>Scabior watched as Fernir tackled the kid and started to choke him. He had no doubt that Fernir would kill him if he didn't tell him to stop. When it boiled down to the werewolf and the kid, neither of them liked one another, it was clearly obvious even if they'd only been near one another for at most an hour since they'd found the kid.<p>

He pushed himself away from the tree as he called Fernir off the kid and watched as the werewolf eased up before letting him go completely, though Scabior didn't fail to hear the threatening comment the werewolf made.

_Well, the kid could run_.

Quinn climbed to his feet and made to attack the werewolf only Scabior disarmed him quickly of his wand and saw Fernir advance on him, teeth bared. "Oi! Cool yer jets the pair o' ya!" he shouted, beginning to lose his patience with the two.

He twirled the kid's wand in hand before telling Quinn to join him in his tent.

Casting _Muffliato_ over the tent, he glanced round at the kid as he sat at his desk and put his feet up on the corner of it. "Come 'ere kid," he remarked as he placed Quinn's wand on the desk and pulled the book of truants and undesirables out of his pocket.

He opened it to the page in particular he wanted and glanced over his shoulder in silent questioning as Quinn stopped behind him. "This 'ere book contains the names of truants, mudbloods, half-bloods and blood traitors who are wanted for questionin' by the Ministry," he explained as he held it up for the kid to look at.

All the boys knew what the book was about and all the bits and bobs to being a snatcher but Scabior figured the kid wouldn't and needed to know certain conditions. As he'd hoped, when he made to continue Quinn took the book from his hands. Without warning, it was dropped onto the desk and Scabior picked it up and gestured towards the two names in particular that he'd been meaning to ask the kid about. "Figured yer might be related to 'em somehow."

"Yeah..." Quinn remarked, trailing off. Scabior nodded and grabbed the quill resting in an ink stopper on the desk before him. He ran a line over the first name and then the second one. "Why?"

He turned to face the kid, putting his feet down on the floor as he closed the book.

"As long as yer up front with me, do wot I say when I say than I don't go out huntin' 'em, understood?" he answered. Quinn nodded quickly and Scabior smirked. "Wot would the Ministry want with 'em?"

The kid's shoulder raised in a half-hearted shrug. "Ma – is a mud – mudblood, she – she don't ha – have to – be – _'gainst_ any – thing for – for them to – want her – her in for – for questioning," he said and Scabior nodded.

"An' the other was an Auror; already brought in two others who disappeared round the same time as wot she did, don't fink they'll be fit for such a job anymore."

* * *

><p>Genevieve almost felt like squealing in frustration. If it wasn't one thing it was another and this was the worst thing so far. She couldn't believe they wanted her and her mother for questioning. What harm could a muggle born witch living in muggle London really do tohinderthe Dark Lord? In a way she could understand why they would want to question an Auror who had just suddenly up and disappeared from the Ministry but it was ludicrous all the same to her.<p>

"Questionin' ain't a pretty thin' to go through, yer know that kid," he stated. "I've done it 'fore, would do it again too – make a man spill his darkest secrets."

Genevieve glanced up at him warily and saw the smirk of relish on his face.

She had no doubt that he would be quite able to cause a person to do so and it made her scared as to what he might do to her if he found out what she was really. Torture her; kill her and the last one in particular made her feel sick as it stuck in her mind – rape her. It was the reason why she'd taken up the charade of being her twin brother. Genevieve had no doubt that the werewolf would've done it to her in the blink of an eye. After the comment he'd thrown her when he'd finally been called off from trying to kill her, Genevieve felt that her situation wasn't going as smoothly as she'd thought it had. The notion sent a chill down her spine and she excused herself, the close proximity of the half-naked snatcher making her more than a little uncomfortable at the thought that he might be the one to choke the life out of her down the track.

Outside she found the boys were all crowded round the fire pit talking. Genevieve feeling like it was not really her place to be among them yet sat down against a tree and pulled her wand out of her pocket, a habit she was going to start training herself to do. Keep it handy or in hand at all times. Twirling it idly in her hand, her head in her free hand as she drew her knees up, Genevieve grimly realized that her existence was now that of a traitor, liar and thief.

Everything she believed in she was about to help destroy and all because a snatcher had saved her life.

Tomorrow would be the real testament to her new life. She'd have to help snatch those she had been meant to protect. Shutting her eyes, she felt tears prick the corner of her eyes. Merlin forbid if she had to snatch a child.

She wished more than anything that she was two years younger. Then she'd still be in Hogwarts and at least well away from any trouble like this.

The only trouble she'd have to deal with was the damn Slytherin girls picking on her for her speech impediment. Sighing heavily, Genevieve found herself thinking back to the sight of her new _boss_ without a shirt on. For a man probably in his thirties he cut quite a fine figure and she dimly realized that she didn't mind the sight of him shirtless – even though he was a danger to her.

Inwardly groaning at her stupidity, Genevieve tried to tell herself that even if she liked the sight she wasn't to get any ideas beyond that. The snatcher would kill her in a second if he knew the boy he had taken on was really a girl.

* * *

><p>When the kid left the tent Scabior collapsed down onto his bed. It was moments of solitude like the present one that he relished greatly. The boys had done the work for the day as he'd sorted out the business at the Ministry and then outfitted the kid properly and all before three in the afternoon.<p>

Normally he'd lead them on a night time snatch but today he felt he'd spent enough time near the Ministry and knew that whether they hunted tonight or tomorrow morning, they would still snatch some poor sap trying to run from the Dark Lord's hold.

Being a half-blood himself, Scabior knew that he wasn't exactly one of the Dark Lord's favourites however he had promised to do his job with flying colours and he was doing just that.

When they'd first been let out of Azkaban prison Fernir had been put in charge of their cohort but after nearly getting them all killed and then put under the scrutiny of the dark one, Scabior had stood up to the werewolf and made him stand down after surviving a duel with him. He hadn't come out particularly unscathed by the battle and serving as a reminder Scabior now sported a scar along his right hip and heightened senses.

Scabior knew he'd been lucky. A bite or any deeper with the scratch and he would've been taking his meat on the raw side by now. His quick reflexes had saved him though and now he was of keener sight, hearing and smell. Of himself and Fernir, he knew he was the more dominant of the two and the werewolf knew it also since that day.

Running a hand down his face as he stretched out, Scabior thought about the kid and the way he acted. He'd outmanoeuvred Fernir while trying to run from him; managed to get him in a duel even though it was with questionable actions considering Scabior had been turned away from him and then there was the fact that he also smelled quite _unique_, for a boy. Since they'd gotten rid of his old clothes, the smell of perfume had left him but there was a strange scent to the boy still.

It was almost as though there was an underlining aroma that Scabior couldn't pick up on and it made his fingers itch to find out what it was.

He listened carefully to the sounds outside the tent and picked up on a quiet humming underneath all the raucous noise from the boys. It was somewhat lulling to him and he felt his eyelids grow heavy. He wanted to get up and find out who was making such a soothing sound but found himself succumbing to the sleep that it induced.


	4. Chapter 4

**So here is chapter four. I hope you enjoy and remember to hit that little 'review' button when you come to it, I love the feedback. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: The First Snatch<strong>

Night brought out the worst in her new boss as Genevieve soon discovered. He'd woken around sunset and had been unpleasant to say the least since then. Every time he barked at her, she felt like elbowing him in the ribs or stomping on his foot and telling him to jump into a deep pit of Inferi but she'd remembered quickly that no good would come from her not cooperating with him and managed to keep her temper in check.

Now as she stood behind him in the small alleyway, Genevieve thought back to earlier when Greyback had returned to camp. She and Scabior had been sitting on the logs and he'd been telling her of some of the previous snatches and tortures that he had under his belt, terrifying her at the great pleasure he seemed to take in his job of hurting others. He'd come straight up to them and told the snatcher that he'd located three mudbloods who were on their wanted list in some seedy pub in Dublin, Ireland. How the werewolf had found them amazed her but she wasn't going to ask on the matter, knowing she didn't warrant enough importance to the werewolf to know such a thing.

Scabior had produced a map and once Fernir had given them the location of the pub, the snatcher had located safe and secluded areas for where they would each be apparating too. When she'd heard the tales of people being snatched, she had believed it was generally rough, dive in without a plan and grab the witch or wizard they were after but now as she got a firsthand look at the actual workings of a snatch, she found it involved thorough tactics and strategies.

In truth, she was amazed and intrigued by it all. Because snatching records had been destroyed from the first war, no one had actual knowledge of snatching or the wizards who had been employed by the Dark Lord at the time.

Scabior was intriguing also to the young Auror. He was highly intelligent and it made her curious as to what he'd been like at Hogwarts during his days as a student. She had no doubt he would've made a brilliant Auror.

Slowly he was beginning to prove to her that snatchers – or at least his group – were quite organized. He'd be a hard one to outsmart and outrun. By what she had learned off a few of the boys this morning back at camp, Scabior was intimidating, even to his men; he loved the thrill of the hunt and snatch but also took pleasure in torturing people for answers.

Genevieve was again reminded of the idea of how he'd torture her when he found out she was a girl; would he use an unforgiveable, or would he take his time, use more slow and agonizing methods? The flashes of what might happen made a shudder slide down her spine. She let out a shaky breath, trying to hold her nerves together.

The alleyway in which she and Scabior had apparated into was barely wide or long enough for the pair of them to stand in, and she didn't take up that much space. She'd been surprised neither of them had gotten a limb stuck in the walls of the buildings around them when they'd landed.

Scabior glanced round at her and held a finger up to his lips, the most devastatingly cheeky smile plastered across those thin lips as a couple stopped right before their hideaway, embracing and laughing.

Genevieve wasn't concerned with them however as her attention remained on her boss, her thoughts drifting into the forbidden area as she admired how cute he looked with that cheeky smile on his lips as he watched the couple, clearly not considerate of the more private moment they were sharing. He was a pervert, though Genevieve had to admit the two of them were hard to not notice. The man was all but trying to have sex against the wall right near them and she pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to think of something to stop herself from blushing as fast as possible in the off chance that Scabior saw the crimson shade of her cheeks.

Hormones; Merlin she hated them terribly right at that particular moment.

She recited the famous witches and wizards from the past, beginning with Merlin and the founders of Hogwarts, hoping that the pair moved on.

Scabior chuckled suddenly and she glanced up to see the woman and man moving away. The woman shouting at the man over something and it was then that Genevieve noticed Scabior putting his wand away. "Don't 'eally wanna wait fer 'em to shag," he remarked, casually shrugging at her and Genevieve was silently thanking him for making them leave as it saved her the embarrassment of listening to people old enough to be her parents shag in such a public and exposed place.

Genevieve was not stupid; she knew that they were in a very seedy part of muggle Dublin about to enter a muggle pub and snatch three muggle born wizards. It was risky but if the boys had been right about their boss, Scabior _loved_ the risk.

Her first snatch and she was being thrown head first into it. Fear spiked her nerves. What if they were seen or the muggles gave them trouble? She didn't know whether she had the strength to attack a muggle.

The wizard realm of Dublin was rough enough but the muggle side of it was said to be ten times worse. She knew that if they caused a scene there would be a whole bar of witnesses to anything that might happen and that could mean exposure if they were not careful with how they approached the snatch. A bar fight comprised rogue snatchers, rowdy Irishmen, a feisty little witch and a werewolf spelled nothing but trouble.

She moved back further into the small hiding place after a second or so, knowing they were waiting for the three to turn up still.

Her eyes watched Scabior's back intently; waiting for him to make any sudden move or command. She knew he was assessing everything that was within his line of sight and Genevieve had to, in many ways; admire his thorough methods of snatching.

Of course, the quicker and simpler he got the job done in a muggle populated area probably benefited the Ministry as well.

The sounds of rowdy cheering from their side of the street close by caught her attention and she straightened up as Scabior turned slightly to glance round at her, giving her the briefest hint of a feral smirk curling up the corners of his thin lips.

He jerked his fingers in a come closer gesture and she moved, doing as he told her. She caught sight of what she gathered were the three muggleborn wizards that they were after crossing the road and heading into the pub.

"We're gonna 'ave ter be careful, kid. Don't want yer gettin' killed on yer first snatch," he whispered and she just nodded, her eyes watching the side of his face intently as he watched the world outside of their hiding place.

His smooth voice poured over her and she began to wonder just how much trouble her hormones were going to cause her throughout this whole charade. In truth, Genevieve should hate him beyond words for what he did for a living but the fact that he had saved her life and was extremely attractive played strong on her opinion of him to.

Suddenly the closed in space was too constricting as her thoughts plagued her and she felt her heart pound faster in her chest.

Almost as though he could hear the fast rhythm, he spoke: "Relax kid. Adrenaline is normal–" He seemed to regard her for a moment, head tilted to the side before he shook his head and continued, "whether yer doin' it willin' or 'ot."

She knew what he meant by it and nodded a little, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a deep sigh.

_If only you knew the half of it._

* * *

><p>Scabior almost startled, which was unlike him. There it was again; that almost feminine sound that set a nerve in his stomach on fire as though a key had been turned in a lock, opening a cage and unleashing something he'd been restraining. Turning his attention to the kid, his brow furrowed as he pondered over the humming he'd heard earlier today and the sound he'd just heard come from the kid.<p>

He shook his head. The notion was ridiculous. "Kid–" he began but stopped himself from continuing with what he intended to say. "Come on." There was a job to be done.

Scabior calmly slipped out onto the street and heard the kid following him. Heavy footed. He needed to learn to tread lighter. In a house attack, Quinn wouldn't be of any use to him if he couldn't tread as though almost a ghost. In his mind, Scabior was making a checklist of what he intended on working with the kid on; improving some things and teaching him completely from scratch so he didn't end up being a liability during future snatches.

Turning to face the kid, he pointed a finger at him directly. "No wands less I tell yer, 'ot it?"

Quinn nodded quickly. Scabior smirked and ruffled his hair, chuckling as it earned grumbling from the small teenager. In a way, he was using the kid to his advantage really. Aside from the way they were dressed and their accents, anybody would think the pair could be brothers, despite not looking related in any way. Scabior liked risking things and making havoc but with the muggle crowd large, by the sounds of things on the opposite side of the road, he had to do this the sly dog, inconspicuous way as much as possible. He didn't feel like having Yaxley coming down on his head for having witnesses, and muggles no less, to a snatch.

He wrapped an arm loosely around the kid's shoulders and led him across the road and into the pub.

* * *

><p>The atmosphere in the pub was thick and choking to ones senses upon first stepping into the it was crowded with bodies twice as large as her own. All the tables were occupied and the bar was nearly packed, save for one seat near the end. She wouldn't lie if asked in that second if Scabior's arm around her shoulders made her feel safer because it truly did.<p>

He may not have been overly tall for a man, probably five foot eleven at most but he was athletically strong, a natural strength that one obtained through hard work and not hours spent in a gym like many of her full-blooded muggle friends did. She'd seen his naked torso and she was impressed to say the least. She could feel the muscle in his arm against her neck from where he'd slung it round her shoulders and had she not stopped herself in time, she would've buried herself in against his warm side to feel more protected.

Scabior guided her towards the bar, pushing her onto the one stool that wasn't occupied as he leaned in against the bar counter as his cobalt eyes surveying the place intensely. She didn't need to be told what he was doing. He was looking for the three wizards they had come in here for.

Genevieve was surprised that he didn't have a look of complete disgust on his face. No magical inn, tavern or pub was ever like this; not as crowded either unless it was a holiday nor was it as noisy.

"Hey kid, need to see some ID." Both she and Scabior glanced round to find the bartender eying her off as though he knew something about her was off. She sunk into her seat a little as Scabior straightened up slightly.

"Lads nineteen an' he ain't drinkin' any 'ow," Scabior said briskly and just asked for the strongest drink the man could give him. Without any more hassle, the bartender nodded and went to get Scabior his drink. When he placed it down in front of the snatcher, Genevieve quickly realized that they had one problem.

They had no money.

"That'll be four forty mate."

Scabior only had galleons and she, she didn't have any muggle money on her. A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Scabior's lips as he turned around to face the occupants of the pub.

"Yer'll 'ave it soon 'nuff.'

She frowned and turned round in time to see Fenrir start a fight over in the back corner. Before she had time to even realize what was going on a full out brawl broke out between every man in the building.

A hand grabbed her by the back of her jacket and hood and without warning she was roughly jerked backwards over the bar counter and down behind it.

"Yer best be keepin' down here, darlin'," the barman remarked, patting her on the head as he knelt down in front of her.

Her eyes bugged out of her head and quickly drew her wand and cast _Confundo_ on the muggle before she grabbed the nearest bottle and smashed it across the back of his head. She silently apologised to him and glanced round her hiding place. She needed to act quick in case Scabior thought she was hiding and was nothing more than a coward, even though most of the muggles were twice her size. Seeing what she was looking for under the bar counter, she smiled and quickly pulled the firearm out of its hiding place before checking to see if it was actually loaded or merely for intimidation.

It was loaded.

She climbed to her feet and jumped over the counter top. Scabior was being held by one man while another beat into his stomach with what she guessed to be knuckledusters. Both were almost twice his size and the rest of the snatchers looked to be enjoying themselves far too much too notice one of their targets had slipped out the back door.

_They really need better tactics when in muggles occupied places_ she thought.

Walking over, she took the safety off and pressed it into the temple of the one wearing the knuckledusters. He immediately stilled andGenevievesaw him glance at her a little. She cocked one eyebrow and spoke: "Let. Him. Go."

It had the right effect. The man holding Scabior let him go and scrambled backwards as the other one kept his attention on her.

"Call the kid off mate," he remarked, eyes shifting to Scabior who was slightly hunched over, one hand clutching his stomach. "We let ya go."

"Kill 'im kid. Ain't nothing but a worthless muggle," Scabior growled back.

Genevieve knew which one was morally right and which one would her into trouble with her boss. Opting for a half-half on the situation she slammed the gun into the back of the man's head, knocking him out cold.

Turning, to avoid Scabior's glare and to see what was happening, she found Fenrir and Archie had hold of two of the wizards.

"Boss, we can't find the other," Beasley stated just as Genevieve took off for the back door.

"Hey!" Scabior called out after her. She could run now, apparate and just forget about this all but the sound of footsteps behind her as she raced out into the back alley, told her to be so stupid. "Where do yer think yer going'?"

"The – The – other – one he – he – came ou – out here," she explained and threw her hands up in defeat over her ridiculous stutter. Scabior nodded and drew his wand while telling her to do the same.

She did as he said and followed him as he walked further into the foul smelling alley, keeping close to his back. The alley only led to a dead end further back. "Apparated?" she inquired as quietly and steadily as she could.

"No," Scabior replied and she heard him sniff the air and quirked an eyebrow. "He is still here."

A bright explosion suddenly knocked the pair of them back. She groaned and shook her head, trying to regain her senses.

She could hear shouts and managed to get up in time to see Scabior shoving a man up against the nearest wall. Scabior punched him and then grabbed a fistful of her jacket and apparated.

* * *

><p>Scabior hadn't meant for the awkward landing which resulted in the wizard being unconscious andQuinnfalling on top of him. He grunted at the weight and heard the soft groan against his chest.<p>

Thankfully barely anyone worked late in the Ministry these days otherwise the site would've been even more awkward than it already was. The kid pushed himself up from off Scabior and moved to sit beside him, clutching his head in his heads.

He patted him on the shoulder, chuckling as he heard Fenrir and the others apparate into the empty and darkened Ministry corridor. "Don't worry, I promise not to do that again, kid."

Getting to his feet, Scabior told Beasley to pick up their unconscious target that had come with him and the kid before grabbing a fistful of his jacket shoulder and tugging him onto his feet. "C'mon yer gonna 'ave to learn to shake off wooziness quicker if yer wanna be one o' us," he said, pulling him along as they made their way through to the elevators.

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><p><em>He felt so nice to lean against<em> Genevieve thought when they landed quite unceremoniously in their destination, wherever that was. Quickly pushing herself up to avoid any awkward glances as to why she would've cuddle into the warm and strong body beneath her, Genevieve rolled off him and moved to sit on her arse, head cradled in her hands as the world spun rapidly making her nauseous.

She felt his hand on her shoulder and wanted to push it off, tell him she was fine but she knew she wasn't.

Yeah right she thought as she listened to him give orders again before he was suddenly tugging her to her feet. "C'mon yer gonna 'ave to learn to shake off wooziness quicker if yer wanna be one o' us."

She tugged her jacket out of his grip and trudged ahead of him; keeping in line with Archie and Beasley and not wanting to talk much as she realized they were back in the Ministry corridors, a place she had once loved and now hated beyond all manner.

Her eyes fell on the large white figure within the middle of the hall near the elevators. A shudder went through her as she saw the white cravings of muggles at the base again. It had been bad enough she'd had to lay eyes on it once but this time her fear was replaced by anger and she had to turn her eyes away or else she'd draw her wand and blast the figure into oblivion.

The elevator certainly wasn't designed for the large mass of Snatchers, three unconscious prisoners, a girl and a werewolf. Cramming in, Genevieve almost gave off a startled squeak when she found Greyback right at her back. He chuckled and the feel of his chest rumbling against her back made her shudder. He not only stunk of rotting flesh and the like but he was pressing more and more into her with each passing second.

"Fan- Fancybo- boys?" she asked rather crudely over her shoulder, glowering at him and sending the entire elevator silent.

His eyes narrowed into a glare and he growled. "Yer got a lot of balls for such a pip-squeak," he hissed.

"Stop- Stop pres- pressing-"

He chuckled. "Yer can't even talk properly pip-squeak," he teased.

Genevieve glanced back round to the front, tears pricking at her eyes as she scowled at the floor. He was mocking her and she knew if she opened her mouth her words would be even more of a mess than they already were. Shoulders falling in defeat, she felt Greyback stroke her hair in a rather uncomforting way and took a step forward right into Scabior. He was watching her with an unreadable look when she glanced up at his face.

Right now she knew she should've taken her chances with apparating in the bar and away from them than standing in this cramped elevator with a werewolf teasing her.

"That's 'nuff mutt, leave 'im alone," Scabior said over her head and it took all her will not to turn around when she heard him grumble under his breath and poke her tongue out at him. It was a childish thought and almost brought a smirk to her face but she quickly stopped herself when it came to her mind that Greyback could easily kill her in seconds.

"Why yer so protective of 'im, Scabby?" Greyback jeered and Genevieve frowned, curious also of why Scabior was so protective of her, even though he had no need to be. In fact, if anything she was the one who owed him since he had saved her life.

Glancing up at her boss, she noticed he wasn't looking at her. No, instead he was looking over her head and towards the werewolf at her back. She prayed to Merlin that he didn't say anything to anger the werewolf into attacking for there was nowhere to run if he lunged for Scabior.

"Firstly, its boss or Scabior, any other name 'ill cost ya yer fingers an' secondly, I don't owe yer any explanation as to why I look out fer the kid," he shot back smoothly andGenevievealmost shivered at the tone in his voice.

Greyback huffed behind her and she suddenly growled when Scabior ruffled her hair with a chuckle and all the others laughed as the elevator came to a stop suddenly.


	5. Note

Hey all,

Sorry for no updates- I promise you they are being worked on and nothing has been abandoned so just hold in there if you're still hanging about waiting for updates from any of my work.

Kat

PS I will be deleting these notes when updates are ready to go up.


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